


Love is old, Love is new; Love is all, Love is you

by FactoryKat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Adorable, Adorable Alistair (Dragon Age), Awkward Alistair (Dragon Age), Awkward Flirting, Canon Compliant, Crushes, Dorks in Love, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, Named Cousland (Dragon Age), Prompt Fill, Warden Cousland (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-12-01 23:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20940416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FactoryKat/pseuds/FactoryKat
Summary: Alistair is not always the best with expressing himself, but he certainly tries his best when he realizes his growing feelings for his fellow Warden and what that means for them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt fill piece for r/DragonAge - from Al's POV again. Two chapters, two different prompts.

**Prompt: "Why are you looking at me like that?"**

It happened unbiddenly, a happy accident if one were to give it a proper name and how silly, how insignificant of a thing it was. Yet it stood out so prominently in his mind just the same. Dressed down, armor discarded and cast off; his hands were bare to the night air marked by the crispness of fall when they reached across the crackling flames of the campfire to ladle himself a helping of the freshly prepared stew. Alistair did not know whether to be relieved that he had been assigned cooking duties tonight (after the previous evening’s disaster when his Warden companion had attempted, well, something) or if he should feel remorseful for her. He really couldn’t judge, honestly, not as though his personal cuisine was somehow remarkable.

_ Let it be known to Thedas _ , she had said,  _ Laerke Cousland is no chef. _

Really, neither was he, but her humble attitude had surprised him. He found it refreshing, indeed.

The memory encouraged a chuckle to burble in the back of his throat. 

He sipped in silence before lifting his eyes from the food to steal a glimpse at her. Just one. Just one quick glance before-

Before she spotted him. _ Maker help me, did she see? Do I look obvious? _ His mind raced to find some excuse for staring, but her face remained wholly neutral, or perhaps even serene. Yes. She looked serene…

“Alistair? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Inwardly he groaned, then promptly cleared his throat and twisted his mouth into a disarming grin to throw her off. “Oh, sorry. You’re eating it! Good! I just don’t know if I should be offended, or relieved that you’re not, you know-” he gestured vaguely to imply retching. 

It only served to make her erupt into boisterous laughter. 

Enough to the point that the bowl in her lap practically leapt forward of its own mind. What prompted Alistair to lunge forward, in some hope to intercept it on her behalf before clattering to the ground where the contents followed, he really couldn’t say. Only that it happened. In their oddly synchronized scramble, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision by way of forward-facing hands, a brush of skin woke the senses. It left behind fleeting warmth and a stranger yet spark of electricity, one that lingered in the recesses of his thoughts for at least the next day or so…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first kiss is always important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Take a canon romance scene and write it out/expand upon it"

As if giving her that rose hadn't been nerve-wracking enough. Alistair wiped the palms of his hands on his breeches and sucked in a breath through flared nostrils as he approached his fellow Warden. Laerke was reclining with her back against a tall oak, engrossed in a tattered book she had picked up somewhere along their travels. Despite the late hour, the moon hung brilliant and bright in the sky above, casting enough light to read by. 

Part of him hated the idea of disturbing her, not when she seemed to be enjoying the peace after yet another laborious day, but he couldn't stop Talking to her shouldn't be so, so -

"Alistair?" 

The sound of her voice startled him, and he practically jolted, whipping his head up to see her lovely face partially contorted in what he could only describe as a mild concern. Great. She probably thought he was either mad (he had just been talking to himself after all) or going to be seriously ill. 

He squinted in deep thought for only a moment before straightening his back and clearing his throat. This did nothing for Laerke's confusion. Alistair saw the way her eyes narrowed curiously and the way she leaned in closer. Body language was universal, he knew that, and he knew what it meant in this case. As if his racing pulse and the gelatinous consistency of his innards weren't enough of an indicator.

Maker's breath, he mentally chastised himself, while trying to remain calm on the outside.

"So," he began with as much enthusiasm as his nerves allowed him to muster. "All this time we've spent together - you know: the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us…" he paused to gauge her reaction.

Instead, his fair-haired companion remained quiet, staring back with those inquisitive blue eyes of hers. Eyes that both encouraged him to continue and almost made him want to swallow his tongue. 

"Right, yes. Uh, well, do you think you'll miss it? Once it's over?"

Contemplation crossed her face, as did a small smile. Alistair watched the corners of her lips curl just so, and her expression softened in the same way it had when he had offered her the rose weeks ago. Alistair knew at that moment, he was doomed. Doomed to be a jittery fool whenever his fellow Warden so much as looked at him. 

"Miss all of the fighting, or miss you?" There was an impish quality to her smile now, One he felt the courage to match, especially after an answer like that.

His flustered chuckle surely did him no favors, but it spilled out before he could gather his wits about him. "Well, I - both? This might sound … strange," Alistair paused to consider how it felt with him looming over her, but she hardly seemed perturbed by it. So he persisted, breaking out into a full-on ramble. "If only considering we haven't known each other for very long but I've come to care for you. A great deal. I think - I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together, I don't know. Or maybe I'm just imagining it. I might be fooling myself-" 

Alistair hadn't noticed Laerke set down her book and stand up. He had been too absorbed in maintaining his computer. Her hands upon his face and her lips pressed against his were the only things his mind registered, and only after it had happened. 

His breath effectively stolen, he quietly gasped the moment she retracted from him, and they shared a glance. A healthy flush of pink dusted her cheeks, and her eyes (contrasting vividly against the blushing) were wide and wild, mirroring his astonishment quite well. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't- I shouldn't have interrupted, but-" She stammered, while visibly fighting back what he interpreted as excitement. 

Relief swelled within his chest, and his cheeks burned. He wanted to reply, to say something witty as a follow-up, but his hands did the talking for him instead as they brushed away loose strands of hair from the lady Cousland's face and fingers grazed the shell of her ear. "Maker's breath, but you're beautiful. I am a lucky man…"

She made a sound - something like an appreciative squeak or perhaps a moan - and ducked her head to hide the coquettish smile that had replaced her playful grin from earlier. Alistair sought out her lips with his, taking the initiative this time and met them with a careful but deliberate pace. All of his expectations were met and changed at once. Alistair focused on the gentle firmness of her lips this time, committing the sensation to memory. She was warm and malleable against his chest now. Even the earthy smells of dirt and dog clinging to her were a welcome intrusion upon his senses. 

If the world could just stop and leave them like this for a while, well, Alistair would be the last person to complain...


End file.
